Their Time Together
by Disco Prince
Summary: Flora is left to die after being wounded. To her aid comes a kind hearted young man who offers her a temporary relief from her daily life. Their Time Together centers around Flora and Nicholas' encounters over the years. NOW COMPLETE, please enjoy!
1. Paths Intertwined

**Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore; I suppose I would be a great deal wealthier if I did!  
**_Author's Note: I have edited chapter one to better suit the rest of the story, sorry for the inconvenience!_

**----------------------------**

**Their Time Together  
** Chapter One: Paths Intertwined

I would hate to see myself right now.

I am lying in a murky brown puddle that swirls with the deep red of my blood; I can feel the rough cobblestones of the alleyway against my back. With every sharp intake of breath I feel more blood trickle down the side of my face. Rain pelts my damaged armour and beaten body as the villagers pass me by with fear in their eyes. The humans here make me sick; I wonder what it would be like to constantly live in fear of the Yoma.

Yes, I have slain the Yoma in their town much like I have done many times, but when I took its sorry excuse for a life it nearly took my own. I suppose I underestimated the beast and in the end I was careless. Dying is not as bad as I had imagined – I feel exhausted as my energy drains from my wounds and fills the cracks in the cobblestones. The town would not remember me, nor would the organization. I would die and be forgotten, but the thought doesn't bother me. I am already a lost soul. As the frightened villagers dart around the entrance to the alleyway in an attempt to avoid me, I can feel a tear slide down my face and mix with the rain that falls on me. The fact that I can still tell I am crying at _least_ grants me the comfort that I am dying as a human being, but all the villagers can see is a dying beast.

I can hear them whispering the usual rumours about our kind, the half-Yoma monsters with pale skin and silver eyes, the _silver eyed witches_... I feel ashamed of myself as I lay dying as the ungrateful townspeople gaze at me spitefully, and soon a few of them gather to inspect me from what they assume to be a safe distance.

A tinge of anger floods through me but I am no danger to them now, though I wish I could stand and frighten them off for their insolence. I am sworn to indirectly protect these people, though they cannot accept us and fear us nearly as much as they do the Yoma. I wonder if they see us any different - a battle between us must be like watching animals fight. They care not which one kills the other so long as they themselves can run to safety. If only that accursed Yoma had reached a _little_ higher it would have taken my head and saved me this embarrassment. The reasons I had for becoming a warrior all but disintegrate as I discover I have not been able to keep a single vow of vengeance. It is becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as the rain nearly doubles in its persistent attempt to drown me before I die of blood loss.

"_I... don't want to die"_ The voice in my head whines pathetically. I do not heed it, as I learned to ignore that voice long ago. It was like tuning out the voice of an innocent child who had nothing useful to say and only complained and cried.

Suddenly, a sound behind me marks the opening of a wooden door, and from that door a dark shape emerges. His presence feels distinctly male and as he quickly makes his way over to me I shoot him a glance that may have caused him to tremble had I been standing in good health. I tense up with shock as his arms move around me, lifting me effortlessly from the cold, wet, blood-soaked stones. I fail at an attempt to hold in a painful gasp and my body becomes completely limp in the man's arms.

What is this guy doing?

I finally see his face; it is gentle, what appears to be light hair already drenched from the rain is almost covering his dark green eyes. In the cold haze gray of the night the warmth from his body becomes a feeling I crave, something to cling to in my final moments as I inhale in jagged bursts of discriminating pain. A soft and relaxing voice both low and clear echoes in my mind.

"It's alright." And with that I soon stop caring about my fate. Out of all the townspeople one man shows me respect and kindness. I had tried to run away from the scrutiny to die alone but in the end was found by this man – an unfortunate event about which I would normally feel angry, but in this moment I am grateful. I feel the rain stop pressing down on me as the colors around me change drastically from gray and blue to gold and amber whirling around my diminishing field of vision. If I had tears to cry, at this moment I would use them to cry tears of gratitude, to show this man I am still human. I am relieved the last thing I feel in this world is the kindness of another, and with that my vision turns to black and all becomes nothing.

-----------------------

The sound of steel on wood causes my eyes to open. I am alive, though I instantly feel the limitations of my body. I barely have the strength to hold my eyelids up as I see the shape of the man whom I assume to be my rescuer attempting to balance my great sword up against the post of the bed he had laid me in. He is a man of average stature and that is all I can see at the moment with my eyes still trying to focus. I move my gaze down to my resting body to see clean bandages covering my upper body and am surprised to see them so pristine. Had I already lost all the blood I could in that alleyway? My thoughts are interrupted when I see what I assume to be a garbage sac filled with bloody bandages and tourniquets. Whoever has taken me into his home has been looking after me like the stray animal that I am. I do not bother to question why the man feels I deserve sympathy and kindness; I merely close my eyes again longing to hear the soothing voice I heard in the alleyway. I am glad to be alive.

As I wake again a strong herbal scent fills the air and wafts to my nostrils. The man is standing over me, holding a small cup. I try to move into an upright position but a gentle hand on my shoulder sets me down again. I feel his kind arms move my body so that I am not feeling pain into a position where I can drink whatever it is he has prepared.

"Can you speak? Are you alright?"

"I am feeling better" I say, though I know it is obvious I am not fully recovered. I take the cup he offers me and slowly sip the warm tea. "Are you the one who carried me in?"

"You're a bad liar" He replies, "And yes, I am. You Claymores are really something, it's only been three days and you've already healed up well."

"It has been three days?" I ask, nearly astounded. The organization must be looking for me, unless they have already considered me dead.

"Yes, by the way, a freaky man in black came for you, but I told him there was no way I was letting you leave in your condition" The man looks at me with apologetic eyes. That look suits him; he is an attractive young man with a charming presence. "I hope I made the right decision, I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"Not at all" I reply, "I cannot thank you enough for saving me, though I do not understand why" I feel puzzled as to why he has gone out of his way to accommodate me in such a burdened state. "I do not have much to offer in terms of payment, I apologize."

"What?" the man asks, as if I have said something strange. "What are you thanking _me_ for? You're the one who killed the Yoma that was causing so much trouble here. _I_ should be the one to thank _you_. And to be honest I would feel guilty if I asked you for some form of payment. This is what good people do, right?"

"You do not need to thank me, killing the Yoma is my job." I reply, "Why aren't you afraid of me?" I feel exposed the moment I ask him the question as he must have seen my marred body.

"Afraid of you? The women in this town are much scarier than you. But I think you've got the Yoma shaking in their greaves" He laughs. What kind of a man laughs at his own jokes? At least he is comfortable around me. A human who does something kind for another is kind, but why waste kindness on me? My kind is not accustomed to friendly interactions with normal people.

"I don't understand why you're doing this." I can feel myself becoming defensive. My main priority is to heal as fast as I can and get out of this town and this man's openness reminds me of the simple traps the Yoma try to use on us.

"Look, I'm just glad I can help out." He replies with a smile, "Don't worry, you're safe right now, I need you to relax if you want to get better." I must look completely taken aback, I notice my mouth has been hanging open with what I assume to be disbelief. This is the first time another has shown me such kindness and relief.

"Please allow me to thank you for saving me."

"If you're really set on it, I won't try to stop you... may I ask your name?"

"Flora" I reply professionally, "And yours?"

"Nicholas" He chirps - a surprisingly cold sounding name for such a kind hearted man. "It suits you, I was trying to guess it earlier and all I could come up with were the names of flowers, so I'm glad to see I am not too far off the mark." He is so unusually friendly it almost worries me, although I know he is not a Yoma I cannot help but wonder if he is trying to trick me somehow.

"Pleased to meet you" I lie. This is another obstacle to this mission, the sooner I can stand the better. "I apologize if I am making you uncomfortable, I am not accustomed to discussion. Most people are intimidated by my kind."

"Intimidated? Well Claymore's aren't usually very approachable." Nicholas sighed before taking the empty cup and setting it aside. "I've personally always thought Claymores were beautiful, but when I saw you I knew you were beyond that, so I think a name like _Flora_ is perfect for you. A pretty name for a pretty girl, you know?" I lose the will to speak, and feel a rare flush in my cheeks. He has called me _beautiful_.Though there are so many human girls in the village to dote upon Nicholas wastes time adorning _me_ with flattery. There is nothing beautiful about me, especially now that I have been sleeping for three days. "I'm sorry; I seem to have upset you. That was not my intention."

"No, Nicholas." I reply quietly, "I am not upset, I just don't understand your attitude. I had a monster's flesh put into me to make me this way, I am half Yoma, and you've seen the scars on my body..."

"So what?" He says, blushing slightly. "And for the record I never saw your body, I tried my best to bandage you without looking."

"... You did that?" Maybe I was too disgusting to look at, or he really was only trying to be respectful? What an odd man!

"Ogling an unconscious woman isn't really my style" Nicholas says, smiling at me. I do not want him to stop talking; oddly enough I want him to call me beautiful again. "Now this will sound a bit weird, but you've been sleeping for a long time, so would you like to bathe? I can get a basin ready for you. I need to step out anyways for a short while, so it's not a trouble."

"You've already done too much for me"

"You haven't been a trouble, I really have not done that much. I'll fill the basin for you with some warm water, see if you can move but don't strain yourself, okay?" I agree and move slowly to a more comfortable sitting position.

Moments later Nicholas' large wash basin is filled with hot water and steam rises enticingly from its surface. I make sure to get in while he leaves so he does not see my body as my compact muscles and lack of pigment are sure to repulse him, not to mention the scars he so carefully overlooked before. I take some time to relax under the hot water and wonder what the room I am in will tell me about Nicholas. There is not much furniture, one bed and several small cupboards.

Wait, if I have been sleeping for three days in his only bed, where has he been sleeping?

It is obvious he lives alone but is well accustomed to having company which I gather from seeing his large dining table and kitchen. Perhaps he works in a tavern of sorts, or in the marketplace? As I wash myself I sink lower into the large wooden basin, looking at my reflection in the water. Cold, silver eyes glare back at me through wet strands of platinum wavy hair that adheres closely to my head. Below are a set of pale shoulders just above the waterline and I automatically feel disgusted. I am a half monster, one who had the flesh of the man-eating Yoma integrated into my body – nothing fit for a young man with many choices to dote upon. Since when do I need a man to dote on me anyways? Warriors of our organization are supposed to be independent, but the longer I stay in the bath the more I want to be taken care of.

"What's happening to me?" I mutter under my breath as the door behind me opens. Nicholas nearly drops the food he has brought home upon seeing my body and hides his face: The obvious reaction to the nude body of a disfigured fiend like me. I wonder what part of me he has become too disgusted to look – the garish scars from the procedure all those years ago, or the pale and discoloured shades of my skin.

"My apologies, Flora – I didn't mean to look" Nicholas' stuttered words show me he is embarrassed and not disgusted. "I've been gone for nearly an hour and I thought you'd be done by now." I don't know if I am more surprised to see he has not spurned me or that I have been in the bath for a whole hour. Setting the food on the table he comes around to me and without looking places a dry towel around my shoulders as I stand. "There, you can dry yourself now."

"Thank you" I reply, "My body must be a monstrosity compared to the girls here; I apologize for not being more careful with covering myself."

"No, don't apologize. It's not that there's anything wrong with you or anything like that, I just did not mean to barge in on you." Nicholas said; his face flushed with red. As I step out of the basin and onto his wooden floor I see him drag the heavy wash basin out to dump into the alleyway where I lay dying three days ago. I could have easily done it for him but I know he would attempt to be a gentleman and not ask me.

"Why are you so kind to me?" I ask after moments of seemingly awkward silence. "I have nothing to offer you."

"It's not about what you have to offer" Nicholas answers as he drags the basin back inside. I look at the muscles of his arms tensing and flexing and lose my focus for a moment and draw the bed sheets around my nude body. "There are people who are afraid of you, aren't there?"

"Yes, because they know I'm half Yoma."

"But it looks like what they don't see is that you're also half _human_." Nicholas said, "And so what if you're Yoma? Last I checked Claymores didn't eat people. We all have the potential to be monsters, but I like to think it's which side we listen to at the end of the day that counts." I am taken aback as Nicholas continues to shock me. Some time passes as he cooks a meal for us. He is thoroughly amazed at the portion I request as it is considerably smaller than his own.

He remembers to hand me the new jumpsuit a messenger from the organization has left with him. Soon we are eating the food he has prepared by candle light and I am listening to him as he talks about life and I learn he envies our organization for being able to journey across the land with no real destination.

Yeah, it's the _greatest_.

I am not inclined to speak of my own past as I hardly remember being anything but terrified and alone in the organization's compound.

"It is not necessarily adventure." I reply, "I would give anything to have a place I could call home, where I could live and grow old and not worry about killing Yoma or the organization." I am not lying, the short time I have spent in Nicholas' care has made me dread having to leave and continue alone, and I get the feeling he can sense that I do not wish to leave.

"I suppose it is only natural we want what the other has." Nicholas says quietly, "So feel free to stay with me as long as you like, alright?" I freeze, he is offering me a place to stay and I am inclined to accept his kindness, though there is no place the organization will not find me. A life away from my duties is another impossible and unattainable form of happiness.

"I... don't believe I could do that." He adds a piece of wood to the crackling fire place and I stand with him to take in its warmth.

"That's alright, I suppose it is asking a bit much of a nomad like yourself" He says light heartedly, "But I mean it when I say that if you ever pass by here or need a place to stay, I'd be more than happy to provide for you here." As a sign of gratitude I gingerly take his hand in mine and take the opportunity to analyze it. It is considerably heavier than mine, and slightly larger in size. The palm is rough from physical labour but with his gentle demeanour I never would have known.

"Thank you" I can see the nervousness in his eyes and know I feel just as anxious.

"It must be hard to be a Claymore, you're expected to fight and kill, to be injured and live alone..." He caresses my hand in his, and I am compelled to look at him. I want more; I am not satisfied with our hands simply being clasped together. I am a selfish girl, for the kindness he has shown me is not enough. I want the heat of his body to surround me as he calls me beautiful again.

"I..." I find I cannot answer him; I cannot speak or even move as his dark green eyes invade mine. I listen intently for his next words as if I need them to survive.

"You're brave." Whether the sensual orange glow of the candles have finally gotten the better of me or I simply cannot control myself any longer I do not know, as at that moment all matters seem to fade away. I walk into his arms and melt against his chest as they slowly curve around me. The feeling of being held nearly forces me to tears. Is _this_ what I gave up for the power of a Yoma? I know it is dangerous to stay in his arms for too long – to grow attached to a man I will never see again would be unforgivable.

"Only for a little while" I say quietly as I rest my cheek on his collar.

"That's fine" Nicholas replies. We share no words after that, we simply stand in each other's arms as two people -two humans- comforting one another. The night moves on, it feels as if we have been standing like this for forever. His hands slide gently up the curve of my back and hold my shoulders as I reluctantly pull away.

"We should both go to sleep."

"Agreed, I'll make the bed for you."

"Don't be a fool. I _know_ you have been sleeping on the floor." Does he honestly think he's kidding me? What a total charade. "Make the bed for yourself."

"And what would my courtesy be worth then?" Nicholas asks, "That doesn't sit well with me."

"Do you value your floor?"

"What?"

_SLAM_

With my blade sheathed sturdily between some wooden planks, I sit down and rest my head against its shiny metal surface. "I will be fine like this, I find it comfortable."

"Well then." Nicholas huffs sourly, "At least take a blanket." I feel his back press up against the reverse side of my blade and I sigh in defeat.

"You're being a child."

"If this is actually more comfortable than my bed let me know who sold you this thing." Soon, my eyelids close and all is silent. The morning would come early.

I know it is morning, for the sun shines irritably all around me but I refuse to get up. I am comfortable, lying in Nicholas' bed where he must have placed me after I fell asleep. He, no surprise, is sitting against the flat of my blade still wedged in his floor where I had expected to be. How had he moved me without waking me up? Was I that heavy of a sleeper?

The entire day moves very fast, and despite my nature I feel comfortable in Nicholas' care. If my comrades could see me now, I would never hear the end of it. I know I have to leave in the morning and spending any more time with the man would be bad, but as he unexpectedly kisses me after supper, something strange in me wants more.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it..." Nicholas says, "To be honest, I don't really know why I-" I kiss him, startling him as much as he startled me.

_"More..."_ I can feel myself craving and savouring each tender kiss he grants me, and feel his hands pull me closer into him, tightening the already inexistent distance between our bodies. I glance playfully to the bed behind Nicholas and wonder if he will take me to it. He seems to notice my wandering eyes and gently lifts me into his arms again and kisses my lips. Softly parting my lower lip from my upper I feel him mimic me, my lips wetting with a small amount of saliva. Holding a kiss he places me down underneath him on the soft mattress as I eagerly and obediently await his next voiceless command. My novice hands move about his chest, clinging to his shirt and pulling him down over me while he kisses me and tells me I am beautiful. A small, satisfied moan escapes my lips as I blush at the failed attempt I had to contain it. It would seem he is accustomed to saying that word, though it leaves his mouth as if it were only meant for my ears.

He unzips the front of the tight suit I wear as my embarrassed hand rushes to halt him. His kissing ceases briefly as he notices my discomfort in shedding the only layer protecting him from gazing upon my pale and scarred body.

"You'll regret it." I whisper as he silences me with his lips.

"I won't." What has come over me? I have never felt so blissfully helpless in my life!

He gives me a glance filled with trust, and like the anxious student I am I release his hand, allowing him to expose a thin line of my bare skin snaking down the space between my breasts and just past my navel. I let him distract me with kisses as his hands move under the fabric near my shoulders and fold it down, all but removing it from my upper body. "I'm sorry" I breathe as his accepting; gentle eyes glance over the massive scar and discoloured flesh of my body. I sigh expecting to see disappointment in his face, but when all I see is the same warm, kind expression he has shown me all day and night I feel my eyes grow heavy with tears. He is not disgusted with me; I am still _beautiful_ to him. Nevertheless, I remove his shirt and quickly press my pale chest into his, kissing whatever my mouth can reach tenderly. A bed sheet is quickly draw around us to hold us together as our lips brush against one another, every few seconds opening to allow the other full access for our tongues to meet. I gasp for air before diving back into the passion between our bodies and await his next move.

I soon feel his free hand caressing my back, all the way down to my now nude waist and left hip. The feeling of his skin pressing and rubbing softly on mine creates a rhythmic pattern and steady pace where our bodies can stroke against each other. The friction between us causes my body to tense in ways I have never felt, and as my lips caress his ear I exhale a decrescendo of a moan as my mind goes blank. I feel myself losing control as I collapse into Nicholas' careful arms. Soon, all is black.

--------

I awaken, oddly enough, to the absence of the crackling sound the fireplace made so relentlessly before. However, I feel as warm as I had last night when it was burning in the arms of Nicholas as he glances down at my opened eyes and flushed face. The memories of the previous night come back to me and I can barely manage a thank you to Nicholas.

I consider myself very lucky to have met him, not only did he save my life but he made me feel things I had never felt.

"Thank you as well." Nicholas said with a sheepish grin, "You're pretty good at that kind of thing, Flora" I nearly melt into him again as he says my name, it isn't fair he can use it against me like that.

"Its beginner's luck" I smile. Am I joking with him? I do not understand my own emotions as I wonder what we will do that day. It is not until I see our reflection in my sword across the room that I remember why I should never become close with anyone. Nicholas sees my face change and understands, remarkably, what my expression means. I have to leave. I feel as if my heart as been run through by a blade, the sting of duty overcomes me and I shed several tears in Nicholas' arms before he and I rise from the mattress.

I cannot even cry as I say goodbye to the only man who has ever cared for me.


	2. Crossing Paths

**Crossing Paths  
**_Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore nor do I own its characters.  
_Thanks for reading! The second chapter is a little different, but the story remains the same. There has been a two year time skip since the events of the last chapter. Please enjoy!  
*****

This is sad. The slow progression (If one could call it that) of reconstructing what was left of the cathedral's front door and its surrounding wall is going slowly and monotonously. Several of the workers who were supposed to be working on masonry had left for a meal break but had not returned, and now that the scheduled rebuilding was several hours away from where the Father of the cathedral had anticipated, everyone was doubting the renovation would be ready by morning mass the next day. I had heard enough of the complaining to last me at least a year and was contemplating leaving, but being the last worker left at the job site I couldn't bring myself to simply up and leave without at least trying to finish the work assigned to me. The sun starts setting on the town, reflecting orange light off every shiny surface and making parts of the wall difficult to see clearly. I feel a hand over my left shoulder as the Father comes up behind me, a sympathetic look in his old eyes.

"Nicholas, it seems as if it were time you turned in."

"Really, Father, it's not too late; there's still some fight left in me." I say simply before stretching my arms above my head. "I would hate for morning mass to have to be cancelled on my account." Father Doha shakes his head kindly and respectfully upon my reply.

"You never come to morning mass anyways, so why bother?"

"My apologies Father Doha."

"It's quite alright; you're a busy man after all." Doha says honestly, and he is right. Especially lately, I've been working almost every day doing basic repairs about town. It can be frustrating to work with a team of men who spend more time complaining about the workload and taking numerous meal breaks than putting in the effort to finish the job. I find it hard to admit to myself that being the last man on a job site is a frequent occurrence around Rihen Town. The Father continued speaking as I reluctantly packed several tools into the belt around my hips and the strap clinging tightly to my thigh. "Besides, Nicholas, I think having a whole in the wall would be nice for tomorrow, it would let in the morning sunlight. Perhaps it will help ease the minds of the townspeople after what has happened here."

"Thank you, Father Doha." I reply and stand to receive a blessing. I dismiss the blessing as he performs it but I do not let him see my discomfort. I know in my heart Father Doha is a kind and selfless man, but I cannot bring myself to follow his faith as he does. Last night he sat in the church at the altar with a powerful Yoma only mere seconds away from murdering and devouring him but refused to budge, holding to the firm belief his God would protect him. Bidding my farewell to him, I convince myself to head to the pub rather than go home to bed. _"God didn't protect me back then."_ I can feel my mind tell me as it tries to conjure up unpleasant memories. I am jolted from my daunting reverie as I am bluntly reminded how uncomfortable the barstools are.

"So, Nico, working late again?" The elderly woman at the bar asks as she folds a tablecloth behind the counter. I watch her for a moment before answering; I see her firm hands drawn across the near perfect creases of the crimson cloth before she moves closer to the shelf of glasses. "What is it I can do for you tonight?"

"There's nothing I need, just a little bit of rest." I say, before accepting the drink she has already poured me. I dislike the side of me that drinks, for they remind me of the man who raised me, whose blood is in my veins. Ceasing the though altogether, I remind myself that thinking about the man who I called father would only ensure a lack of sleep and alcohol would only increase the discomfort. The scars on my back were existing proof that the man deserved his fate.

"Listen, there's no point-n-brooding." A man next to me says upon seeing my face. He is a blacksmith, and a very drunk one at that -that is all I know. "Thish a pub, and if I'm not mistaken that's some fine drink-n-yer pint glass, so drink up-n-forget about it." It is difficult for me to see if the Blacksmith is trying to be helpful or insult me. I simply offer a smiled and agree with him to prevent him from speaking further. I do not wish to forget my troubles, only to find a more suitable way of dealing with them. "Y'know, if it weren't for the silver-eyed witch the other day, Father Doha's cathedral would be in tact! If there's anything to complain about it'd have to be those she devils struttin' round as if they own the damn place!"

"Don't you have any sense at all?" The barmaid says so I do not have to. "Those Claymore-women are the ones protecting us! The least we could do would be to show some decent respect like any human should show another."

"Human? Whash that yer saying? Those witches are 'bout as far from human as it gesh!" I resist the urge to hit the man, and I stand ready to leave. I place some coins on the counter even though I have not touched the glass I have been given and turn my back on the pub. I walk past the fountain I had helped built years ago in the abandoned town square and sit down beside it.

The redness on the Blacksmith's face and the stench of alcohol on his person painted a painful canvas of my childhood, the near daily occurrence of my father returning home drunk after putting us further in debt with the landlord at the tavern. Often he would come home beaten up and in a rage. The easiest person to take his anger out on was my mother, and then me when I stood between them. Eventually, when I could feel the leg of mother's favourite wooden chair splintering upon my back, he would stop and retire to bed - I harboured hatred for that man up until the day a Yoma took over his body. A Claymore with long flowing hair had defeated him with ease and had left the same day with not so much as a faint smile. I was a young boy at the time, and I developed a sense of trust in the Claymores for being able to fight those beasts. The Claymore that had come to kill the Yoma in our town was not the one I remember carrying into my home two years ago. Being so secluded and cut off from most other towns it was no surprise there was such a gap in seeing one of them. I recalled an indescribable feeling as I hurried to the edge of town the recent morning the Claymore arrived and having my heart sink upon realizing it was not her, it was not Flora.

Footsteps alert me to a presence on the other side of the water feature I sit behind. I take a look back; I can see one of them, though through the gushing water it she is not recognizable. To my surprise she is not the one who destroyed the front of the cathedral, but a new woman altogether. She notices me in an instant before taking her slender hand of the handle of her blade.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Not at all, it seems I've startled you as well." She replies, her voice is so different from Flora's; it is not soft or gentle but sharp and almost irritated. "You should leave; there are several of us meeting here soon." That's it; I can't help but ask.

"Miss, may I ask you something?" I begin nervously, as the Claymore nodded, looking me up and down with cold silver eyes. "Is there one named Flora among your group tonight?"

"Flora?" She replies with a smirk, "Why would she be sent here? I don't know who will be joining me and until they arrive I'll remain ignorant."

"Right. Sorry, then." I reply, and bid the Claymore farewell. Walking down the alleyway to my doorstep with my head to the ground, more footsteps send chills down my spine. I look up to come face to face with another unfamiliar pair of silver eyes.

"Excuse me." The Claymore orders before walking past me and leaving me to shut my door behind me. I light a candle and drop my tool belt by the door, like I do every night and though it should normally feel like a boring routine I cannot help but wonder why there are so many Claymores in our town. It was a possibility Flora could be here, I could not pass up a chance to see the young woman I had become so infatuated with two years ago. I found myself unable to remain awake, and like a tired oxen I fell into a heap on my mattress without bothering to draw the sheets around myself before I fall into unconsciousness.

...I see my mother crying as the self proclaimed "Man of the Household" leaves again in a fury. I do not want to be like him, I do not want to hurt others. My mother proves to be difficult to comfort, as she is not only worried about the Yoma spotted in town, but that her husband, in his drunken state, could wander directly to its trap. Unbelievable, all the cruelty the man has shown her has had no effect on the love she shows him. I feel it is only a matter of time before the man is eaten by a Yoma and wonder if the Claymore we have sent for will arrive on time. I can recall waking up, walking down the stairs in the dead of night to see my mother's decimated corpse strewn across the dining room table. The dream continues like it does whenever I have it, I deny to myself that I am seeing my father devour my mother. I deny that he is the Yoma that is hurting the townspeople. I deny that the Claymore bursting through our front door will clean up the mess she will make. The only thing that turns out to be true is my last denied claim. My mother's corpse lies on the table, arterial blood coating the walls, cupboards and ceiling...

A thump from beyond the door of my small home causes my eyes to open and I pull myself out of bed and inch towards the door as if something on the other side may be trying to break in. With the increase of Claymores in town I feel what lies beyond my door could be a Yoma, to a thief, to something worse. "Or perhaps..." I mutter under my breath as I carefully open the door to see a young woman leaning calmly against the masonry of the other side of the alleyway. Flora, as slender and pale as the last time I saw her opens her shining silver eyes to greet me. I can see the moon gleaming off her pristine armour as if to remind me of the hour it is. "Flora..."

I find I cannot form another word as she walks closer to me, the moonlight bathing her completely. Whatever I had been thinking of disappears; the events of the day are gone in a flash of Flora's gleaming armour.

"Nicholas." Her soft, gentle voice awakens something inside of me that has been sleeping for a long time.

"Flora?" I reply, nearly inquisitively. Of course, I had wanted to believe she would come back to Rihen Town but I still feel completely awestruck. Her beauty did not fade during the time we were apart - to my surprise she looks exactly the same.

"I am taking part in a mission, can I come in?" Flora asks.

"Of course!" I blurt, standing aside for the young woman to step into my dimly lit apartment. With the door tightly shut behind me I feel a hand on my shoulder, forcefully turning me around. Flora's gentle and cold lips press into my own. I cannot resist – actually, I probably could but I do not want to try. The nearly foreign texture of her soft kiss begs me to return the favour. I had been craving Flora's touch for two years but now that she is so close to me I do not know what to do – it's like I am completely frozen with Flora's out-of-character advance.

"Sit" Her soothing voice commands as I fall onto a wooden chair. She lets the glistening armour drop from shoulders to the ground with her heavy sword, her cuirass, and her bracers. Sliding onto my lap I can feel the warmth of her inner thighs as they lock around my waist. Her boldness surprises me, when had she become so assertive?

I manage to say her name though she forcefully shuts my lips with her forefinger.

"Less talk, Nicholas"

"Yes ma'am, I"

"I said... less talk!" Flora orders with a voice almost as silky as her pincer-like inner thighs, as she places her hand tightly around my mouth, removing it only to kiss me.

What the...? I had barely greeted her and my mouth is practically gagged? I try to make noise, a muffled plea to remove the hand around my face. She does not heed me as she contracts like a serpent about to devour it's all too willing prey.

"Sorry, Nicholas" Flora exhales, as she foolishly leaves my hands unguarded, "But you wouldn't listen. Do you have any idea how hard it was to suppress this kind of urge being away from you?" I raise an eyebrow at her words, she almost sounds angry. "Now you're going to sit there and obey me, you're going to give me more of you than before so-"

I've never been one for following orders I don't agree with.

As I stand, I lift the muscular but mysteriously lithe girl clamped around me. I gently lower her onto the bed, where we lay by dim candlelight two years ago. We both struggle for control, turning several times over one another, though she seems to let me win, and I find myself above her. Once again I find myself unzipping her jumpsuit, the same shy look staring back at me – _that_ is the Flora I know. Small white marks are etched into her pale flesh, over her muscular core and snake around her. The scars seem to be a point of shame for the usually bashful Claymore, and she turns her head away from me. A gentle press of my finger turns her face back to my lips as we pull at the remnants of each other's clothes between fierce tongue duels, until garments adorn the various corners of my apartment.

"I've missed you" I whisper as Flora writhes in anticipation beneath me, her hands pressing into my chest and curling around my neck. She casts me a quick silver glance from the corners of her eyes before biting her bottom lip adorably. I can't hold back now, it feels like the urge to have Flora's body has been lying dormant for the years we have been apart, slowly growing more powerful.

"I command you..." Flora moans, "Make love to me."

"You're not in any position to make demands" I joke, nibbling at the tender spot behind her ear as I feel her legs relax slightly around me. I cannot play with her anymore, it's time. The burning feeling of entering her makes it hard to keep my eyes open. I see her white gold eyes burst open in surprise, her fingers claw into my back as she tenses up for a brief moment; undoubtedly I am the first one to be one with her. I know she is used to pain, but I cannot help but feel wicked for causing it. She seems to notice my discomfort and shoots me the most serious glance I have ever seen and I am thoroughly frightened. A part of me wishes to stop, and my hips cease movement.

"Don't you dare" She hisses before kissing me roughly, "I want this."

"As you wish" I oblige and continue moving into her. She begs, sighs, groans and eventually cries out to me to be forceful, to please her, to satisfy her. I see her glistening eyes dilated with lust and as her nail like fingers scratch deep into my back with every thrust I wonder if my new battle wounds will rival her own scars. Soon her eyes focus on mine, her mouth opening and closing to allow her high pitched airy sounds to serenade me as our bodies press together harshly. Her firm breasts rub my chest and I feel my body growing tense – is this it? I kiss her and her body arches and a burst like cry of surprise nearly muffled by our struggling lips makes its way into my ears as we collapse on each other.

Panting, we stare into each other without words. After being victim to the waves of the ocean for a prolonged time, even after one gets out they can feel invisible waves against their body as if their very soul never left the water. What I feel is somewhat like that, as if we are still intertwined.

Flora retreats into herself shyly, folding her arms around herself to cover her pale body. Her immaculate white skin flushes with pink around the bridge of her nose before I help draw blankets around us. "That was unfair of you to kiss me at that moment..." she pouts as I chuckle lightly, I feel as if there is nothing to worry about, like she never left me two years ago.

"You've become rather assertive during the last two years" I smile, holding her back to my chest. She turns slightly to kiss me, her nose rubbing into my own like a well nurtured pet vying for affection. "I was wondering where the shy side of you was hiding."

"I have to be assertive on the job." She answers. It seems she recognizes that I would never take advantage of her gentle, shy nature. "I've wanted to see you for so long; the urge was driving me... insane."

"Uh." I really I ought to learn to formulate a sentence in my head before I open my mouth to speak. What did she mean when she said 'the urge?' Was that all that had brought her back to me?

Don't read into it. I'm helping her, aren't I? I try not to think too hard and concentrate on her words when I forget what I am trying to convince myself of. It's not as if we are in love. "I don't think I really even knew how badly I missed you." A simple shy smile tells me she understands. Perhaps it is only because we are lying nude, pressed into one another that I feel so comfortable talking with her.

"You've grown." Flora says, "You're eyes, your body... you've changed."

"Besides a few bruises here and there, I don't notice." I reply, "Though you look more or less the same as I last remember, there's something different about you as well."

"It _has_ been two years. Just because we don't age the same as a normal human doesn't suggest we don't grow" Flora says with a hint of bitterness.

"My apologies" I chuckle, I feel as if I may have insulted her. This brings a pang of guilt to my conscience as I allow her to rest her head on my chest. "I was so nervous when I heard there were so many of your Organization gathering here."

"Nervous?" Flora asked, "I thought we didn't scare you?"

"It wasn't that, I just didn't know what to say to you." I admit, "Though you saved me the trouble of a terribly awkward greeting." She gently bit the spot below my clavicle teasingly. "So how long are you going to be here?"

"We have a meeting tomorrow, and after a night's rest we will set out before dawn."

"Care to stay with me tomorrow?" I ask. I had initially thought she would be staying with me anyways, but in the company of her comrades our... _friendship _may be a point of inquisition amongst the other warriors. To Flora, who clearly values her reputation in her organization that kind of questioning would probably make her feel uncomfortable.

"If you would... let me" Flora began, her eyes meeting my own, "I would like that."

Of course I'd let her!

"Good!" I smiled, "You know, we should get some sleep. It's nearly dawn."

"There's still something I want to talk about, Nicholas." Flora begins, so I listen as intently as I can. "It's about our relationship." I know what we share could hardly be called a proper relationship by most people, but I figure she is using the word 'relationship' in a general sense, referring to the simple connection between us. Still, my heart nearly leaps from my chest at the mention of the word. She is completely serious – her facial expression is unreadable. "Do you rely on me for this kind of thing?"

"This kind of thing?" I ask stupidly. Does she mean sex? Can she honestly think I'd find better sex elsewhere? "I don't do this kind of thing with anyone else, so I suppose I do in a sense."

"Very well. I'd like you to stop."

"... Flora, what is this about?" I ask, as her body feels like it has distanced itself from mine.

"Nicholas, you deserve a happy life, with a good woman who can... care for you and be with you all the time." She says, and I gradually understand where the conversation is headed. "I cannot give you that kind of life."

"I never said I wanted it."

"I only am going to say this once; you've made me feel cared for in ways I have never known until I met you." Flora's body turns further away from me and I find I cannot even see her face.

"I do care for you, Flora." Nothing I say can stop her from continuing and saying what I want to shield my ears against – five words which sting with a lasting venom for which there is no cure.

"I do not love you."

The venom is inside me as quickly as it has left her mouth. She continues, and although it is painful to hear the obvious truth, I still listen to her.

"We are not meant to love, only to fight and kill." Flora says coldly, her face turned completely away. I cannot bring myself to speak right away as I cannot read her expression. "If we did love each other it would be too difficult, so when I go, find someone else."

"Not meant to love...?" I ask, "Flora, I don't care if it's difficult, I don't even know if I love you either, but one thing I do know is that I don't want to lose you!" To impress my point upon the matter, I roll her over underneath me and immediately see she is crying. Her face flushed red with pain, her silver eyes angry with confusion.

"I used you!" She says, "It helps numb the stress, what you do to me – that's all!"

"You're amazing." I begin, "But an amazing liar you're not."

"I won't admit it..." She says, with tears burning down her cheeks, "You're a distraction, a toy, a puppet! I can't be close to you, I can't give you _anything_!"

"I don't want anything!" I say loudly. "I don't want a woman to stay home and keep my house clean. I don't want a life where nothing changes."

"But, but I-"

"I'm not saying 'I love you' either, Flora!" I say back to her, slightly unsettled. "I'm not asking you to love me either. Think about it, we've known each other for hardly a collective week! What could possibly be between us?" I instantly want to impale myself on the blade near the entrance to my apartment. Her eyes become weak and she tries to minimize herself beneath me. I gently drop over her being careful not to be too aggressive and curl my arms around her. How the hell could I have said that? When has anyone taken the time to show Flora the kindness she deserves? I had not intended for the two of us to become involved so physically with one another, but now that we have I don't regret it.

What's happening to me?

"Don't ever fall in love with me, Nicholas." Flora sobs lightly into my bare shoulder. "I promise I will never forgive you if you do."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." A kiss to her mouth keeps her silent for several seconds and in that time I can think clearly. Even when she tries to be harsh she is kind.

"It's not about what kind of life you lead." I say to her, "Sure, I wish you did not have to fight, but the time apart makes me treasure the time I'm fortunate enough to spend with you."

"Once every two years... is not enough."

"Hey, it could be more next time." I say, "Maybe we've had it easy?" The smile I cast her is not returned, showing me my sad attempt at a light hearted joke has ended in miserable failure. "Look, we don't need to ask each other what we are. What matters is that when I'm with you, I'm happy. And if we rewind the clock about half an hour..." I grin, refusing to give up such a remark, "I'd say you looked pretty happy too." The Claymore pounds her fist into my chest with alien strength, causing me to grunt in pain. I suppose I deserve it. Through small tears she nods her head and I can hold her safely again.

"But, when I'm gone – find... another woman." I sigh as she refuses to give it up.

"I'd rather spend a day once every two years with you than a lifetime with some nagging Rihen woman any day. Please, Flora, close your eyes. I'll be right here when you wake up." I watch her close her eyes, as if on cue and follow suit.

I wake up and nearly leap out of bed in shock. Flora is looking straight into my eyes, giggling at my reaction to noticing her.

"Good morning, Nicholas" She sighs,

"To you as well, Flora" The sun gleaming through the window tells me its mid afternoon. I slept in all morning, wasting precious time with the beautiful Claymore. I was not about to pass up a chance to spend an afternoon with her – if I did, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. "Have you been awake all this time?"

"Yes, but don't worry, I like watching you."

"Watching me sleep?" I ask, "Well I'm glad I can be entertaining. What would you like to do today?"

"I want... to feel normal." She says, "I want to do what normal girls would do, so... take me out!"

"Out? But won't your comrades get suspicious?" I ask her, but it seems she's already made up her mind, standing and dressing herself. "And... are you sure you want to wear all your gear?"

"Nicholas, I'm a grown woman." Flora sighs, "I can wear whatever I like."

"Sure, sure." I smile, "Any thoughts on what you'd like to do?"

"I just want to have fun." We leave my apartment and walk into the busy street. Almost immediately people begin to form a circle around Flora and I. Whispering comes next and the occasional insult. I try to shoot as many dirty looks as I can. "I'm sorry, Nicholas. The townspeople won't see you the same way."

"Like I care." I take her hand and hold it close to me, forcing her to walk beside me. Gasps of the people around us almost succeed in making me nervous until Flora kisses my cheek. "How bold of you." She blushes and tugs my hand, leading me to a kiosk selling flavoured shaved ice. She glances at me as if to ask me to buy her some. The owner of the kiosk looks as if he is ready to run from us at the slightest movement. "You like this kind of thing?"

"I like the cherry flavour." She mumbles cutely as I signal the owner to comply. I take the shaved ice from his shaking hand and give him a few coins as Flora digs the small wooden spade into the crimson stained ice. "Let's go this way."

"It seems like you've got an agenda!"

"I told you, I just want to feel like a normal girl, not... _this_."

"See that?" I ask; pointing to several young women cleaning the front of a store, laughing about something I'm sure is trivial. "You don't want to be like a normal girl. You're perfect the way you are."

"Well, look what we have here." A female voice prompts me to turn around to see three other Claymores, each one with a look of suspicion on her face. "Flora? I thought you snuck out last night."

"So you went to spend the night with this guy, eh?" Another teases suggestively. The third seems to want no part of the conversation and looks elsewhere. I can't blame her, as I'm already at a loss for words. Flora says nothing to the two teasing girls and turns to the one looking off into the distance.

"We are still meeting at the same time?" Flora asks, her demeanour shifting roughly to one suitable for a professional conversation.

"Yes. Please wrap things up before then." The Claymores leave us to sit on a bench in peace.

"Nicholas, I'm sorry for last night." Flora says abruptly, "I was scared, that is all."

"Don't worry about it, I think we both were." I reply hypocritically. I'm worried I will never see her again. I'm scared that this moment will be the last time I see her eyes of white gold, porcelain skin and wavy platinum blond hair. I would give anything for the reassurance that I would see her again.

"I _am _sorry it has to be this way" She says sincerely, "But we should clarify that we aren't in love, we have no obligation to see one another." She stands and points towards some market kiosks. "Let's go that way, we haven't been there yet." I can only smile as she walks off expecting me to follow. Fate, being as cruel as it is could not have dealt me a more frustrating hand; but at the same time I am glad it did. After today, it is unsure if I will even see her again. She can tell me we aren't in love as many times as she wants to, but that won't change the fact that she is wrong.

Because I do love her.

"I'm coming, hold on." I follow her footsteps to the kiosks, knowing all I can do is cherish what time I can spend with her until there is no more. I will never forget the day my life crossed paths with a beautiful Claymore named Flora.


	3. Unruly Paths

**Unruly Paths**  
*Disclaimer: I do not own _Claymore_.

_I apologize for the wait!_ _Thanks for reading so far. There has been a month's time skip between chapters two and three, in which Nicholas and Flora have met twice... Please read and enjoy... or don't enjoy, whichever tickles your fancy. This is the last instalment.  
-DCP_  
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I had finally remembered what it was like to have a human heart, but now I wish more than anything I had never discovered it. I would bury the bothersome thing back under mounds of bone and flesh and hide it under regret, like a dangerous secret. The mere thought of Nicholas' soft pathetic gaze makes my stomach turn over! I thoroughly _despise_ feeling this way, as if I am torn in two over a man whom I could care less about and an obligation I have to kill Yoma. Gritting my teeth, I remember the last words we exchanged.

_"I don't care if I'm your plaything. Go ahead, use me all you like but I won't ever stop wanting to be with you."_ He said, almost as if he actually meant it. If there is one thing I know about men, it is that the one thing they cannot have is the most attractive, though even in the abstract the word 'attractive' does not suit me.

_"I suppose there isn't much point in hiding my intentions from you now, is there?"_ I had been cold, I had been unsympathetic but I had to wake up from that dream sooner or later. "_I suggest you stop following me now if you value your pride."_

_"I don't place much value on those kinds of sentiments."_ His voice had become low and almost hollow at that point. He knew he was fighting a losing battle.

_"Then go back to Rihen Town. I won't as much as look at you if I see you again."_

_"Flora, you're acting like a spoiled child."_ Nicholas had said _"Even if I am just a toy to you."_

_"Toys can be replaced."_ And with that, I had walked away. Warriors are not meant to be happy or to even live a life with a shred of normalcy. We are the dark alternative to mankind – the violent rogue that lives only to fight, kill and complete the mission. It's true; Nicholas had made me happy and for a short time I felt content with knowing he would be in Rihen town waiting for the day I returned like some obedient manservant. I could find men in most any town who would be mad enough to have relations with a warrior of the Organization; surely there were others who could satisfy me who would not attempt to convince me to stay with them.

The bridge I stand on overlooks a pristine creek, the still murky water completely untouched by the townspeople who walk by me. I can sense their steps on the wooden bridge's walkway. Annoying, frustrating and outright _loud_! I cannot even find a place to think without being distracted by the ones who spurn my kind – the ones we are indirectly protecting in our never ending quest to slay Yoma.

I glance at the reflection of myself in the water and strongly resist the urge to cleave it in two.

I remember the last time I was paired with several warriors to take down a voracious eater I could hardly stop thinking about Nicholas. The monster almost took my life and instead of thinking of how pathetic the end of my life was becoming I could only think of how much I wanted to be in his arms. His _strong_, _caring_ and _sympathetic_-

_NO_! He's a sticky adhesive that never completely washes off, no matter how many times I bathe! His selfish pleas that I stay with him are unrealistic and too ideal for even my tastes. How could he cling to something so desperately when it shuns him so sourly? Why would he not listen to me when I told him not to talk to me, not to look at me and not to follow me?

I try to put the man out of my mind with the closing thought of how much I don't need him in my sad excuse for a life. There is no place for someone like him in my world, a man who fears for my safety with every passing moment, who refuses to let me walk alone as I always have. There... that wasn't so hard.

As I make my way to the inn, I can see a tavern with several men completely drunk beyond their senses guffawing insipidly and gesturing to every being lacking a Y chromosome that strode past them. I feel safe, being half Yoma I am confident they will spare me from becoming another victim of their helpless stupidity.

I was wrong.

"Hey, Silver nosed-whatever!" One of the men practically burps in my direction,

"Be careful, Guy, don't mess with her kind!"

"Ay! Shaddap!" The one I assume to be Guy retorts pithily, "Y'know, if you close your eyes I bet you'd be pretty cute." Some of the men immediately retreat indoors while one (conveniently for him) leans over to vomit into an empty barrel. "Come 'ere and lemme have a lookit you!"

Sometimes I wish to renounce my vow to never harm a human, though being cleaved in twain by my fellow warriors as a result of that choice does not seem like an attractive bargain. I continue to walk down the street that grows emptier with every passing second and as all the townspeople go inside I can sense the other warrior nearby. A voracious eater has been spotted nearby and two of the organization's warriors including myself have been summoned to this ugly town to purge it of the Yoma's stench and ravenous hunger, so I focus (or try to) and continue to our meeting place.

Turning the corner into yet another cobblestoned alleyway, I see her standing amongst some crates behind what smells like a tavern or eatery of some kind. A frontal strand of platinum hair tucked casually behind her ear and her arms folded impatiently across her chest tells me she'll react informally to my lack of punctuality.

"Well, you took your time," the woman says irritably, "Y'know, I almost went inside to eat something – the only thing that stopped me was the fact that I've got no money."

"That's unfortunate" I reply, trying as best I can to let her know I couldn't care less.

"You're cold," she says back with a disturbing grin, "I like your style. I'm Helen, number twenty two." _Twenty two? _What's her purpose in being assigned to this job with me? As she continues to brag about her victories and God knows what else I try to figure out what the hell the organization is up to. "So who the hell are you?"

"Flora, number eight." That shut her up. With introductions out of the way, I figure we're ready to move along with our plan.

"So why'd they pair me up with you?" Helen asks, for probably the fifth time as we continue through town. "Like, I'm good, but I'll admit a mission you're supposed to do might be a bit too much for me."

"Then stay alert."

"They probably just realized my embryonic potential for a single digit ranking. Yeah, that's what this is – it's a test!" Helen prattles boorishly, "Why didn't I figure that one out sooner?"

"_Because you're an intellectual pigmy" _I say to myself, content with my ability to hold in my frustration. Thankfully, as if to distract me from my partner, a heavy yoki aura permeates our senses. I've never been so thankful to find a Yoma. Yeah, I felt it a while ago but I didn't want to make Helen feel _too_ bad about not sensing it then.

"You know, it's almost as if the people know it's here right now" Helen says, as the townspeople retreat indoors. "Or maybe they're just _that_ scared of us."

"It's coming closer." I whisper, and as if on cue, a large Yoma lumbers out of a nearby house, drenched in blood I know is not its own.

"Whoa, that is one ugly-" Helen is interrupted by one of the men I had passed earlier near the tavern as he wanders out into the street, still completely drunk. "What's this moron doing?"

"That _idiot_!" Within seconds the Yoma is upon him, tearing at him, opening him up and gorging on his insides. Helen and I break, with her to one side of the street and I to the other, and we run at the beast in an attempt to confuse it. It seems reluctant to back away from its steaming meal but yields to the immediate danger, leaping in reverse several feet back.

"Come on, you witches!" It shouts rowdily, licking his sopping jaws of the drunk and now equally dead man's blood. "I'm still hungry!"

"Then come get it, ugly!" Helen roars, diving at the Yoma, nearly taking its arm. The monster swipes at her, throwing her aside like a broken doll as I descend from above. He miraculously dodges my strike as well, returning to apparently finish off Helen. She guards against its powerfully clumsy swipes and succeeds in severing some of its fingers.

Whoohoo, go Helen.

"That's all you've got?" Helen shouts as she brings her sword up again, but her bravado is wasted. The monster is at her throat, holding her high above the ground. "Shit – Flora! What the _hell_ are you waiting for!?"

"Claymore meat doesn't taste so good, but I'm too hungry to be picky..." As the monster readies its clawed hand for a pass at Helen's head, it notices me standing close with my hand firmly gripping the handle of my great sword. "I wouldn't do that – if you move your friend's gonna be my last meal..."

"Fine by me" I say to Helen's obvious horror. I don't know which part of the windcutter technique is more satisfying, the act itself or the look on my prey's face when I sever the top half of their body from the lower half. The monster's form sloughs to the ground and Helen is released, landing brusquely on her behind. "Are you alright?"

"You bitch!" She huffs, "What were you saying about it being totally fine if that beast took my head off?" We continue walking with the occasional small conversational tidbit, but discuss nothing of any grave importance, or for that matter, interesting.

"Do you know where to find the mayor?"

"What? Probably at the tavern, that's where they all go after something like this." We nearly turn around when an unwelcome and invasive voice announces its presence.

"Flora – are you alright?" I turn to see Nicholas, who I am not at all surprised to see in the first place, standing in the empty street looking worried. Helen practically licks her lips and indiscreetly eyes him up and down before hooting crudely.

"Whoa, who's this fella?!"

"Nicholas," I sigh regretfully, "I recall telling you to specifically leave me alone."

"Why would you want that?" the other warrior blurts behind me.

"I will, if that's what you want, but there's something I have to say first..." He stalls,

"It's all been said, I'm sure. I don't have any use for you anymore, so please." I turn my back to him and walk the other way, but I can still hear Helen...

"Hell, I can find some use for him!" By now, Helen's colourless commentary is becoming excessive. I wish for her to be silent for only a few moments, just enough time for me to remember what exactly peace and quiet feels like. I also hope Nicholas finally understands I want nothing to do with him, though that information making its way through his thick over-affectionate head may be asking too much. "What's your name?"

"Uh, it's Nicholas" Dear God, is she actually trying to get to know him? I know exactly what's on her mind, she's derogative, provocative, and confrontational and hasn't had a man's _attention_ in years – or so she tells me. He wouldn't sleep with her... would he? Even if she did get affectionate with him, she wouldn't know how to satisfy him. That thing I would do with his earlobe, how I would bite his neck and his chest; how he would wrap his arms around me and – wait! Why do I care! Helen can do what she likes with him! I head back to the inn with a damaged expression, though I would not have known unless some men from the bar had not been hooting and waving me over. Nicholas would suspect my return to the inn, and being the persistent locust of a man I know he is he would be there.

I pause. Was Helen trying to help me by distracting Nicholas? I doubt it, she knows nothing about him. He would be less than reluctant to share the details of our stomach-turning terrible excuse for a love affair but knowing the other warrior she would probably not be listening, anyways.

Moving back to the topic of Nicholas' obnoxious determination, I decide to mislead him and do something very un-Flora like. Hang it all, I'll go to the tavern – how hard can it be to drink like those men do? The warriors of the organization are hardly affected by alcohol unless we wish to lose control, but I do not. Approaching the men, I see Guy looking dishevelled and sodden with negativity. Firstly, I am amazed I still remember him, and second, I am amazed I begin talking to him.

"Was that your friend who got in the way earlier?"

"Shut up!" He retorts, standing up and pointing his finger at me accusingly. "You two witches didn't do anything to save him, that's why he'd dead!" What does he mean? If he hadn't been completely drunk in the first place he would have been wiser than to literally walk in front of a hungry Yoma whose appetite had not yet been sated. Another man tries to calm him, and he looks away sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry, I guess."

"I understand,"

"Well at least let me... get you something to drink." To be honest with myself, I don't want to talk to this man. I don't want to be near him or be shown courtesy by him, all I want is for something to distract me long enough for Nicholas to leave me alone. I can't imagine him remaining here too much longer. Despite my obvious contempt for this man's type I sit at the bar with him and pretend to listen to him babble like a buffoon about some other man I don't want to know about. Soon, after he has presumably (or so he is inclined to believe) gotten me drunk, his true colors come out.

"Hey, witch-lady, since you're kind of responsible for my pal's death, how's about you make up for it? I have a room here upstairs." Anyways, that's what I gather he means, as he is stupidly drunk to the point where most of his sentences are filled with grunts and sexual suggestions. Like I had said to myself, before, hang it all – the thoughts of Nicholas are driving me insane; going up to Guy's room may not be such a bad idea after all. I've had my experience, I know how to please a man... how hard can it be?

I know something is wrong after I kiss him and he says and appears to feel nothing. This worked with Nicholas, why won't this man look at me the same way _he_ did? He gives me a rotten glance as if to ask 'what the hell was that for?' and immediately begins to fumble with my armour, trying to loosen it. I unenthusiastically assist him in his failing drunken efforts and stand confused and offended as he fondles me roughly, his hands grabbing and groping, tearing the remnants of my clothing off and throwing them around the room as if he is entranced by rage. In this moment I look outside the window into the dark street and see Nicholas, and I smile at him. His face contorts into a shape I have never seen and at that moment I know I have broken his heart. I should be proud, I finally did it, but... something... is wrong.

"What the..." His eyes only meet the scars and bruised skin with revulsion when Nicholas' eyes had overlooked them, if not smiled at them. I was a fool to believe I knew what to do, this is scaring me!

I don't like this feeling, this beast of a man harassing me; he is not gentle, like Nicholas was. He stares at my body in disgust, trying to cover the scars up with his hands and whatever lies near. He turns me forcibly around to face the window, he cannot even look at me. I've been so naive, what did I think this man would treat me like? I am this man's whore, when not long ago I was Nicholas' queen. Why do I not run and leave this place? Because I deserve it, for hurting the man I used to care for. I can feel tears of alien sorrow sliding down my cheeks as the man tries to dress portions of me. I am disgusting; a monster that no one should love, this man is only doing his part. I am soon crying like a helpless little girl, but the man who was behind me is gone. I feel as if I have been asleep, dreaming a terrible dream as I sit cold and naked on the wooden floor crying into my knees.

Soon, something warm envelops me and without turning to make sure they are the arms of the man I long for I curl into them and sob. A side of me I never wanted Nicholas to see, the helpless side, the side that begs me to give into him every moment of my day. Now he can see the real me, the little girl I tried to leave behind dying in that alleyway all those years ago.

"I'm here, Flora." Nicholas says as I tremble, nude against his warm body. With the door locked and the curtains drawn back over the window I finally feel safe in his arms. The fireplace casts our huddled shadows on the wall, painting a pathetic picture of me in his arms.

"I'm sorry" I wheeze,

"It's fine."

"I'm so sorry..."

"I am too, I didn't understand. I just ran away."

"It was me who failed to understand, it was me who was running away." I cast him a quicksilver glance, ensuring he is really there and I am not dreaming. "You followed me all the way here, through the entire wilderness... why would you ever do something so _stupid_?"

"I tried to tell you," He says quietly, "I tried to tell you that day you left, I tried to tell you when we were in the wild, and I tried to tell you not two hours ago. You're the strangest woman I've ever met, it's like I can't get through to you no matter what I try and do." He's right; I don't know what to say. "And you've always been a terrible liar. When you told me I was just a toy, I saw right through it."

"I don't know what you're talking-"

"Just listen, Flora! Please, I..." He once again renders me speechless, softly holding my shoulders keeping me close to him, his tender lips just out of reach. "It's a lot easier to say to you in my head." I can feel an alien smile forming on my face, not the self-righteous smirk I know I've been casting everyone, but a true smile. The one Nicholas' words make. "I'm in love with you."

"But"

"Here we go again," He sighs, letting his lips touch mine just long enough for me to forget what I was going to say. Sensing myself starting to stutter, I opt for letting him kiss me instead of talking. This is what a kiss is supposed to feel like, warmth inside, growing as if it's ready to burst. After we're finished, it makes you want to smile and laugh. It makes the whole world seem like a bad dream, and for a brief moment I can escape from its forlorn clutches and enjoy something truly happy.

"Flora, do you love me?" His musical voice asks as if it were serenading me.

Do I _love_ him...?

"You idiot..." I say, glancing off at the reflection in my sword, staring back at me like it's never seen something so perfect. I blush and shyly meet his gaze. "Of course I do."

THE END


End file.
